


Learning Curve

by MightyAmphitrite



Series: At Hogwarts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Visit with the Headmaster, Family, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyAmphitrite/pseuds/MightyAmphitrite
Summary: At the end of his first week at Hogwarts, Al Potter realizes he still has a lot to learn. But encouragement from a new friend, and some brotherly advice, remind him he won't have to go it alone.Or: You can't erase the past, but you can choose how to shape the future.





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> The parties are a reference to The Wonders of Birthdays. Check that one out for more information.

After packing up on Friday afternoon from his final lesson, Al found Ross the Gryffindor prefect waiting in the corridor. “Headmaster Crawley wants to speak with you,” he said as Al and Charlie emerged from the Transfiguration classroom.

“With us?” Charlie asked, frowning. “Why?”

“Not you,” Ross replied, turning to Al. “Just Potter. Come on, I’ll take you to his office.”

After exchanging worried looks with Charlie, Al followed Ross down the hall and through the castle, trying to ignore the giggling and admiring looks that followed the prefect throughout their journey. They stopped in front of an ancient stone gargoyle that Al hadn’t noticed before. “ _Pax Mundi,”_ Ross said, and the gargoyle jumped to the side, revealing a spiraling stone staircase. Al had to fight not to leap away himself. Ross nodded toward the staircase. “Go on up.”

Al knocked gently on the door, which swung open to reveal the smiling headmaster, who waved him inside. Crawley’s dark hair was combed neatly back; his black robes had a geometric pattern in metallic gray thread along the hem and cuffs.  Book shelves stood between and below the paintings of the former Heads, who eyed Al curiously as he stepped inside.

Crawley gestured for Al to have a seat; the Headmaster sat down opposite Al in the large leather chair behind his desk and continued to smile, although Al couldn’t fathom why he was so excited to see him. Al focused on sitting up straight and keeping his own face politely interested, grateful at least that he didn’t seem to be in trouble.

“Well, good afternoon, Mr. Potter. Your day is going well, I hope?”

“Yes, Professor,” Al replied, trying not to look at the portraits that were staring silently down at him.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Crawley said. “It’s been a busy week for all of us, and I’m happy to finally have a chance to meet you, Albus.”

“It’s just Al,” Al corrected automatically, then cringed. Crawley only smiled.

“Al, then. How are you finding Hogwarts?”

“Er, well…” Al paused, not quite sure what to say. “It’s a really big place, but really interesting, and…and everyone’s really nice. And classes!” he added hastily, “Learning about magic has been neat. I really like Charms.”

“We strive to make Hogwarts a welcoming and supportive environment, even as we challenge our students to reach their full potential,” Crawley said. “And Charms is a very useful subject; you’ll be amazed how often you use those spells in your daily life once you come of age.”

Al nodded, and there was a beat of silence. Crawley’s smile never wavered; he watched Al appraisingly. After a moment, he leaned back comfortably in his chair, the intensity in his brown eyes at odds with his posture.

“Hogwarts is a big place, as you’ve said, and it can be intimidating at times,” Crawley said finally. “If you ever have need of anything, or have any questions, my office is always open. Don’t hesitate to come by.”

Al nodded. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, trying not to fidget as the wizard in the portrait on his right leaned forward slightly in his armchair.

Crawley nodded as well, looking pleased. “Good. Do you have any questions while you’re here?”

“Ummm…” Al racked his brain, trying to think of the right thing to say. Should he come up with a question just to have something to ask, or was Crawley only being polite?

“I don’t have any right now,” Al said finally, “but I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

Crawley nodded again, then rose and extended his hand. “Then I’ll let you go. Enjoy the rest of your day, Al,” he said as he gave Al’s hand a firm shake. “And remember:  anything at all. You need only ask.”

* * *

 

“What was that all about?” Al wondered aloud, when he was once again alone in the corridor. But there was no one around to answer; even the stone gargoyle remained silent.

* * *

Still lost in thought, Al took a sharp turn onto a staircase and collided with a group of older students on their way down. They scowled at him as several of their books toppled to the floor.

“Sorry, I didn’t…“ Mortified, Al tried to hand them back their books as the older kids scoffed. At the sight of the commotion, a fair-haired boy stepped away from his own group and came across the corridor to where Al knelt on the stairs. He stooped down, picked up the last of the books, and calmly handed them over to the scowling students.

“No harm done,” Scorpius Malfoy said, but the others just frowned at him and continued on their way.

Shrugging, he turned and looked at Al. “Need a hand?”

Al accepted it gratefully and dusted off his robes. “Thanks, Scorpius.” Belatedly, Al wondered if he would want to be addressed by his first name by an obscure family acquaintance, but Scorpius didn’t comment as he passed Al his bag and the Transfiguration notes that had fallen out.

“You should watch out on the stairs,” Scorpius said, waving over a friend who had stopped to wait for him. “They can be tricky, even when they’re not moving.”

Al nodded, not sure what to say next. Scorpius smiled kindly. “Are you okay?”

Al smiled tentatively back. “Yeah, I just- I wasn’t sure if you talked to, you know…”

“We don’t usually allow first years to address us, but we’ll allow your apology,” the brunet boy who’d wandered over cut in, grinning; Scorpius punched him in the shoulder.

“I think he meant ‘Potters’,” Scorpius said as his friend chuckled. “I know we don’t know each other well, but we still say hello now and then. Of course,” he added, “your sister says hello to everyone, so it’s hard to feel special.”

Scorpius turned back to his friend as Al grinned, relieved. “This is Al Potter,” he said, “he comes to my Father’s weird birthday dinners sometimes. Al,” he said, turning back, “this is my friend Lucas Nott. He’s a third year as well.”

Lucas nodded Al’s way and Al nodded back, unsure if he should offer his hand to shake.

“So you get a slice of the finished masterpiece, huh?” Lucas said, and Al kept his hand at his side. “Mrs. Malfoy lets us snack on the edges she cuts away before she starts frosting the cake, but I’ve never had a real piece. Scorpius says I’m not missing much.”

“It’s really delicious,” Al said, visions of this year’s marvel dancing before his eyes. “And always filled with something tasty, like coconut cream or strawberries.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “But is it worth the cryptic conversations and staring contests? I’d rather let our parents have their bizarre ritual and take a slice up to my room.”

“If they’re so awkward about it, why do your Dads keep inviting each other to their birthday parties?” Lucas asked.

“If one gets an invitation, then he has to invite the other back,” a new voice replied. James Potter had materialized at Al’s shoulder. “Whoever breaks the cycle loses.”

“At what?” Lucas asked.

“At hospitality,” James said dryly. “Who knows? Our parents clearly have issues.”

Turning to his brother, James added, “I need to talk to you, as soon as you’re done blocking the stairwell.”

“We were iust saying hello,” Scorpius said helpfully. “And talking about cake.”

Al sent him a grateful smile as James nodded. “Understandable; ‘Malfoy’ and ‘cake’ are pretty much synonymous at this point. I’m sure Scorpius gets that all the time.”

Lucas snorted and Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Come on, Al, before dinner starts,” James said, gesturing downstairs. “Later, Scorpius.”

With a final wave toward the laughing Slytherins behind them, Al followed James down to the Great Hall, which was empty and quiet; it felt much larger without its usual cheerful throngs of students. James walked all the way across the room and began climbing the steps to the staff table. When Al hesitated, James gestured impatiently for him to follow. “Don’t worry about it, there’s no one here.”

“So why are _we_ here?”

“I heard about your meeting with Crawley.”

“What! How? That was only twenty minutes ago!”

“I have my ways,” James said, heading for the large chair at the center of the table. Al followed reluctantly, still keeping an eye out for teachers as James calmly placed a hand on the back of the chair.

“When they came in to fix up the school, they saw that the last Head’s chair got torched,” James said, as Al leaned in for a closer look. “When Dad found out, he offered to buy a new one, if the Board of Governors agreed not to put his name anywhere inside. Ariadne showed you the tree, right?”

Al nodded; they had gone out to see the memorial sculpture yesterday, a gray tree near the Forbidden Forest with the names of those lost in the final battle carved into its trunk. If he squinted, Al could make out the names of his parents and their friends painted on the highest branches in gold.

“It took them forever to agree on that design, and people still wanted more. The chair finally got them to calm down. Read the back.”

Running his fingers along the letters, Al read, “Hope always rallies, revives, yearning; parted, ordinary, together, triumphant, exultant, restored.” He tilted his head to the side. “Huh.”

James was watching him carefully. “It’s an acrostic poem. Mother wrote it.”

Al read through it again. “It sounds like something she would write.”

“Acrostic poems,” James said with exaggerated patience, “use the first letter of each word to spell something. Can you see it yet?”

Looking it over once more, Al’s eyes widened. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“Crawley sits in this chair every day,” James said. “And he knows what it means. It’s a reminder of where we’ve been, and who people still look to for hope.” While Al thought that over, he added, “He was a Slytherin, you know.”

Al frowned at him. “So?”

“So he’s not stupid. He knows his job would be a lot harder without Dad’s support, and he’s willing to do what’s necessary to stay on his good side.”

He glanced at the chair again and started walking back to the students’ area. Al followed, thinking hard.

“He talked to me, too, my first week,” James said as they walked along the Gryffindor table toward the door. “And he writes to Dad, twice a year, to let him know how we’re doing. One summer, I saw the letters in his desk.”

“His _locked_ desk?”

“I didn’t _take_ anything, _Merlin_. You’re worse than-“

“Al! Jamie! I’m so glad I caught you!”

James sighed. “If we run, we can still make it.”

Rolling his eyes, Al turned to grin at Ariadne, who was striding over, Eleanor at her heels.

“You made it through your first week! I’m so glad we’re all here,” she gushed, beaming. “I thought the three of us could sit together for dinner and talk about classes and things.”

James groaned. “Come on, A, I have _places_ to be!”

“Like where?” She frowned at him. “At least sit with us a minute; I’ll tell Daddy that it was your idea and that you were really nice about it. Please?”

James dropped onto a bench at the Gryffindor table. “Your minute starts now.”

She grinned and sat down across from him. “We had a great day, even though our Defense essay is sure to take forever. How about you guys? What were you doing in here so early?”

James tilted his head toward the front of the Hall. “Crawley talked to Al today. I was showing him the chair.”

“Isn’t it something?” Ariadne smiled at Al. “It feels a little like Mum and Dad are here with us. And Headmaster Crawley is so nice; I spoke to him yesterday, actually.”

James turned to Al and raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

“I asked him if the school owls have names, and he and Professor Collins took me up to the Owlery after dinner to introduce them to me.”

They chatted a bit longer before James shooed them away and stood to go to his own table.

“You can talk to him all you want,” James said in a low voice as more students trickled in, “but know that he won’t keep anything from Dad. And being a nuisance won’t do you any favors.”

 As James walked off and Charlie came over to take his place, Al was suddenly glad it was Friday. After a busy first week, they had two much-needed days to decompress, and he certainly had a lot to think about.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little glance at Al's early days at Hogwarts, almost a filler piece, that leads into the next fic I've been working on about the three Potter children at school. I feel like this builds the world up a bit more and helps you get to know my characters better, and will hopefully help the next main story make sense : )
> 
> It is nearly finished, but will probably take a couple weeks to complete. Thank you for your patience, and thanks for checking out my stories! Have an awesome day!


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